In case you all can't recognize it, that's supposed to be pizza.
Since the girl's been sick, I've been trying new recipes and making things from scratch. Her favorite food is pizza so naturally I have to come up with recipe that works.
Something with the dough didn't quite work out. Maybe being up at this altitude meant an automatic fail for the recipe. Not sure.
Cooking, I'm realizing, is lot like writing. It's a series of trials and sometimes epic failures when it comes to learning to write. Or learning a new writing process. A new way to plot. Or getting to know a stubborn character.
And some stories are simply harder to write.
Like the elusive great pizza dough.